buttercups

As far as the eye can see a yellow carpet of buttercups

Buttercup Days
By A. A. Milne

Where is Anne?
Head above the buttercups,
Walking by the stream,
Down among the buttercups.
Where is Anne?
Walking with her man,
Lost in a dream,
Lost among the buttercups.

What has she got in that little brown head? 
Wonderful thoughts which can never be said. 
What has she got in that firm little fist of hers? 
Somebody's hand, and it feels like Christopher's.



Where is Anne?
Close to her man.
Brown head, gold head,
In and out the buttercups.

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